


A Promise Revisited

by stormysgambit



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Olympics, Post canon, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:09:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27610496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormysgambit/pseuds/stormysgambit
Summary: In which Hajime buys a ring, and both he and Tooru remember a declaration he made to Tooru while they prepare for the Olympics
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 2
Kudos: 83





	A Promise Revisited

Hajime had known as soon as Tooru called to tell him he made the Argentinian National Team. If you were to ask, he would probably say he knew long before then, but timing has never seemed to be in their favor. But he made a promise to Tooru. He buys the ring the next day, just a simple silver band with a single topaz. He puts it in his desk drawer at work to remind himself every day. 

They are both so consumed by their preparations that they revert back to their old schedule of video calls in the morning and at night, neither one having the time for much else. Time becomes a whirlwind of days filled with one of them struggling to stay awake while the other one is only just waking up. Hajime is afraid that Tooru is going to take himself out of the equation before they even get to the Olympics, he is so caught up in his return to Japan and showing everyone the player he has become, one who can proudly stand on the same sage as and go toe-to-toe those deemed “the monster generation”. He can’t tell if Tooru is overworking himself to the point he is going to break, not over the phone anyways. It would be the universe’s idea of a sick joke to rip this opportunity away from him before he even sets foot on that stage. 

But Tooru is not the boy he was in high school anymore, constantly worrying he’s not good enough because he’s comparing himself to other players. He has long since shed that skin and become far more confident than either of them would have thought possible back then. He has confidence in himself and his team, he truly believes they can win it all. Hajime always knew Tooru was a force to be reckoned with, but now, overflowing with self confidence and with this added personal vendetta, he may be downright lethal. Hajime also believes that Argentina just may win the gold. Knowing Tooru as well as he does, Hajime knows Tooru will have studied footage of every member of Japan’s team and probably coached his teammates on tendencies of those he once played against. 

Tooru is nervous about returning to Japan, but it has nothing to do with the Olympics. Unless he is so nervous about them that he has entered some sort of zen state where he no longer feels any form of anxiety. He supposes he could be such a bundle of nerves that he is no longer aware of it, To his knowledge though, the reason his stomach is currently tearing itself into knots, and has been for the past several days, is the promise Hajime made to him recently. A promise they have repeated to each other many times over the years. One first made when saying goodbye in the airport before Tooru left for Argentina, on the sands of the beach in California the night of Hajime’s graduation, and most recently here in Tooru’s house. Tooru knows what Hajime promised him, and yet that horrid voice in the back of his head keeps asking him “but what if he changed his mind?” 

Tooru has been unable to sleep much the last several days, various scenarios running through his mind keeping him awake. He is heading to Japan a whole week before the rest of the team, wanting to allow himself some alone time with Hajime, chances are they’ll rarely have time to see each other once they move into their temporary housing at the Olympic village. Of the two of them, Tooru has always been able to sleep while traveling, almost instantaneously, and yet this one time, his stomach and mind have both seem to have joined forces. His eyes are closed, but Tooru is unable to drift off to sleep, so he sits in his seat, trying to focus on the music pouring into his ears rather than the uneasy feeling settling in his gut. If there is absolutely one thing he will not do, Tooru tells himself, it is to be sick on an airplane. 

Somehow, he manages to accomplish this task through sheer willpower, but it’s a small victory, because apparently, he will be sick in an airport bathroom. He looks at his face in the mirror, frowning at the dark circles, and splashes water on it, hoping that will do something. His legs feel like they are about to collapse, whether from the events that have just transpired, the long flight, the lack of sleep, or some combination of the three, so he is relieved to find Hajime right outside the arrival gate. 

Tooru presses a swift kiss to Hajime’s lips, smirking as he pulls away. “Look at you Iwa-chan, fraternizing with the enemy. What will all these people think?” He flutters his eyelashes and raises an eyebrow. “I’ve missed you,” he adds, kissing Hajime again. He should have known he wouldn’t be able to fool Hajime because he’s never been able to hide anything from him, not for long anyways. 

“I’ve missed you too,” Hajime says, reaching out and cupping Tooru’s face in his hands. “You’re awfully pale and you feel a little warm. Are you coming down with something?” Hajime studies Tooru’s face for a reaction, eyes worried, getting ready to call Tooru out in whatever lie is about to spill out of his mouth. 

“No, no, I’m fine, I just haven’t slept much the last few days. You worry too much Iwa-chan.” Tooru waves his hand dismissively and plasters on a smile. Hajime says nothing, merely raises an eyebrow at him and continues to stare at him for another few minutes. Tooru breathes an inward sigh of relief when Hajime finally looks away. They make their way to baggage claim, Tooru’s head drooping onto Hajime’s shoulder, his eyes struggling to stay open, feeling like they have sandbags attached to them. Hajime’s arm is wrapped around Tooru’s waist, steering him gently. 

“ ‘Jime,” Tooru mumbles when they are in the car, so soft that Hajime thinks he must be talking in his sleep, until Tooru speaks again. “I need you to take me to a shrine,” Tooru elaborates, pulling his head away from the window, turning to look at Hajime. 

“Okay, I’ll take you to one tomorrow, for now, let’s get you back to my apartment so you can rest.”

“No, we have to go today!” Tooru’s voice takes on that high pitched whiny tone, and Hajime sighs. It’s always better to just give him what he wants early when he gets like this. 

“Are you planning on praying to win the gold medal?”

Tooru’s eyeroll is audible. “I wouldn’t want to win it like that. Besides, I know we’re going to win. I have something else in mind.” He turns away, resting his head against the window. 

Hajime pulls stops at a shrine, and taps gently on the glass, breaking Tooru out of his daze. He helps Tooru out of the car, and Tooru links their hands together. Hajime waits patiently while Tooru performs the ritual, fingering the ring in his pocket, which he carries around with him when he’s not at work. Tooru makes his way back down to him, kissing him on the cheek saying “Iwa-chan, I’m tired, let’s go home.”

The reunion is short and bittersweet, within a few days they are ripped apart and thrown into their daily routines in preparation for the Olympics. They see each other in passing during the day, nodding at each other as they pass, gazes lingering on each other as they walk away. Tooru somehow always winds up in Hajime’s room at night, claiming he can’t sleep in his own bed. He always wakes up before Hajime, slipping back to his own room before he’s supposed to be up for practice. Hajime doesn’t mind, after spending so many nights with the other side of the bed cold, it’s nice to wake up with Tooru next to him again, if even for a little while. If only they didn’t have to sneak around like they were in high school and dealing with disapproving parents. 

The Olympics get into full swing, and what little time they had together dwindles down even further. The matches pass by in a blur, Japan and Argentina steadily racking up wins, until at last, they arrive at the semifinals, Brazil waiting for whoever takes this series. Tooru is more nervous than he has been this entire time, and wants nothing more than to be able to go to Hajim. He needs that reassurance, but Hajime is the one person he can’t go to right now. Instead he throws everything he has into his practices, trying not to think too hard about his matches and what comes after they’re done here. 

The day of the match between Argentina and Japan, their eyes meet across the court, and it feels weird, Tooru thinks, to be on the opposite side of the net, even if Hajime isn’t playing. Tooru doubts he could tell you a single thing that happened, he’s pretty sure he blacked out after the first whistle, playing on nothing but adrenaline and instinct. The next thing he remembers is all of his teammates pounding him on the back and telling him they’ve done it. He turns around to look at the scoreboard, and sees that he, no they have in fact, won. They’re going to the finals. He searches anxiously for Hajime, and when their eyes meet, Hajime simply mouths “later” at him. 

Tooru excuses himself from the team celebration that night, it’s too early to think about Brazil, right now he just needs to be with Hajime. “I never doubted you, you know,” Hajime whispers against his neck, his fingers running along the trail of freckles down Tooru’s arm. 

“What would your team think if they heard you say that, Iwa-chan?” Tooru murmurs into the pillow, struggling to stay awake now that the adrenaline has worn off. 

Hajime brushes his fingers through Tooru’s hair. “Tooru, I don’t think we’re fooling anyone, most of these guys have known us a long time. They’re just trying to stay focused on everything else. Besides, this just means I get to visibly support you in the finals. Or maybe I’ll cheer for Brazil,” he teases. 

“So rude,” Tooru retorts, halfheartedly, his voice trailing off. 

“Just sleep now, you’ve earned it,” Hajime says kissing the spot where Tooru’s neck meets his shoulders, even though he knows Tooru is already asleep. His mind wanders to the ring, nestled in its box in his coat pocket. 

When Argentina and Brazil take the court for the gold medal game, Hajime’s hand is in his pocket, fingers brushing the ring box for reassurance. His fingers brush it when Tooru makes his first serve, and again when Argentina takes the first set. He can feel the hungry desire radiating from Tooru from his place in the crowd as a spectator, he doesn’t think there has ever been anything Tooru has wanted more than this. The teams volley back and forth, neither winning consecutive sets, arriving at the fifth tied. Hajime is a bundle of nerves at this point, while Tooru is exuding nothing but calm and confidence from the court. “Please let him have this,” Hajime thinks, praying to the volleyball gods and anyone else out there who may be listening. 

By this point, Hajime’s eyes are only on Tooru, zeroed in on his every move on the court. He can feel his chest tighten and his breath catch every time Tooru serves. His hand has not left his pocket, fingers resting against the ring box, either to calm himself down or bring Tooru luck, he’s not really sure. Neither team wants to give the other an advantage, set point is reached a handful of times, but neither team seems to be able to seal the deal. 

Hajime watches in slow motion, as Tooru tosses the ball and it is slammed down on the opposite side of the net. Time then pauses, and Hajime sees Tooru, standing out more vibrant than anyone else in the arena. When time starts again, Tooru appears to be in disbelief before he breaks out in the widest smile Hajime has ever seen on him. In this moment, he is ethereal. From where he is seated, Hajime can see the tears of relief and elation on Tooru’s face. He finds himself pushing through the crowd, trying to make his way to Tooru, he is moving on pure instinct. His hand is still in his pocket, but the time isn’t right. This moment belongs to Tooru, he’s not taking anything away from it. Tooru doesn’t even realize Hajime is there, next to him until Hajime grabs him and crashes his lips against his. “I am so fucking proud of you,” Hajime tells him, barely audible over the noise. “I knew you would do it,” he adds, kissing Tooru repeatedly and urgently. When he sees Tooru on the podium with his gold medal, Hajime thinks it is the most beautiful he has ever seen him, and he may cry a little. 

In the days following Argentina’s win, they still have little time together. Everyone wants to talk to the Argentinian team, or more specifically, they want to talk to Tooru. It’s frustrating, but it gives Hajime time to tie up his loose ends, and more importantly figure out exactly how and where he is going to propose. Time slips away, and before he knows it, they are left with only a few days before Tooru is scheduled to return to Argentina. 

They decide to return to Miyagi, leaving the chaos of Tokyo behind, looking forward to just being able to be with each other finally. They are finally able to enjoy each other’s company completely, Hajime showering Tooru with constant praise and affection, occasionally teasing him for how attached he is to his gold medal. It’s a refreshing change of pace, the only scrutiny that of their parents when they emerge from the same bedroom in the morning. Before Hajime realizes it, the last of their time together has slipped away. 

The evening before Tooru is scheduled to leave, Hajime drives Tooru out to the old field that they first practiced volleyball in, back before they had a gym they could use. He thought long and hard about the place, considering the gym at Seijoh initially. But then he remembered how much heartache it holds for Tooru, the reminder of all the times they fell just short. Not that Tooru would see it as such anymore, he views his time there as a stepping stone that led him to where he is today. He may never have taken the huge leap to Argentina if things had played out differently. Those years may hold painful memories over a team who never made it to Nationals, but they also are what allowed him to make the moves leading to him truly coming into his own as a player, and an Olympic gold medalist at that. 

Tooru is silent the entire drive, staring out the window, making himself as small in the seat as possible, fingering the gold medal around his neck. Hajime is too nervous to try to engage him in conversation, so the car is filled with heavy and awkward silence. When they arrive at the field, Hajime laces their fingers together, Tooru trailing slightly behind him as they walk. 

They stop in the middle of the field, stars just beginning to dot the inky black canvas of the sky above them. Hajime waits a moment, gathering his courage before he speaks. “Tooru, do you remember all the time we spent here together when we were younger?” Tooru nods, but says nothing “It’s where we first practiced volleyball together, and…” his voice trails off when he catches sight of Tooru’s face. “Tooru what’s wrong?” Hajime cups Tooru’s face in his hands, lifting it to force Tooru to look at him, and he can see tears in the corners of his eyes. 

Tooru’s voice is shaky when he speaks at last. “Iwa-chan, I can’t believe after everything we’ve been through together, you’re getting ready to break up with me. After I won an Olympic gold medal.” Tooru’s voice is small and thick when it breaks, the tears spilling down his cheeks. “Am I still not good enough for you?”

“Tooru, I’m not breaking up with you,” Hajime says softly wiping at the tears with his thumb. “I made a promise to you, didn’t I?” He fumbles around in his pocket, breathing a small sigh of relief when his fingers touch the ring box. “I’m trying to ask you something I should have a long time ago.” He draws in a deep breath before continuing. “Tooru, I am so proud of you, and I always have been. One of the greatest joys in my life has been watching you grow into such a confident person over the last several years. I know the distance has been hard on us, but I truly believe that you made the right decision in going to Argentina. I love you, even if you get too in your head sometimes.” He presses a kiss to Tooru’s forehead. 

“Tooru, I know it may have taken me awhile, but what I’m trying to say is, I’m ready for us to start the rest of our lives together...in Argentina. Just like I promised you. Tooru…” The rest of the sentence is cut off as Tooru’s eyes widen, and he flings his arms around Hajime. Hajime can feel Tooru’s hair against his neck, and wet spots from the tears. “I’ll take that as a yes, but I’m going to finish what I was asking anyways.” Tooru nods, nuzzling against him before pulling away. “Tooru will you marry me?”

“Yes,” Tooru whispers, his eyes locked on Hajime’s, and he is surprised to find that, as Hajime is also crying as he slips the ring onto his finger. He kisses Hajime, long and slow, eager. “You realize this means you’ll be my trophy husband?” Tooru asks teasingly. 

“I think I can live with that,” Hajime replies, kissing Tooru back.

**Author's Note:**

> I know virtually nothing about any sport that isn't hockey, so I didn't want to go into too much detail on what was actually happening. In my mind though, makes more sense for the Argentina-Japan matchup to not be the gold medal game, even though this is the one with the heaviest connotations behind it. I may have also made this decision based on the "miracle on ice". This is also one of the obviously infinite proposal scenarios as far as these two are concerned. 
> 
> Also, I have spent most of the last two days out hiking so if none of this makes, sense that may be why. 
> 
> This was another one of my twitter threads I decided to clean up, you can find me there at [stormysgambit](https://twitter.com/stormysgambit)  
> This is kind of a follow up to my other work [The Space Between](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27409945)


End file.
